Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Sri Lanka and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Buzzcocks show in Bolton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Electric Prunes to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a U.S. Maple record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Cymande,
Lyres,
The Gories,
The Walker Brothers,
the Soft Cell,
Eddi Front,
8 Eyed Spy,
Boz Scaggs,
Davy DMX,
Gerry Rafferty,
Black Sheep,
Chrome,
The Black Dice,
K-Klass,
Massinfluence,
The Victims,
Livin' Joy,
The Moleskins,
The Angels of Light,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Reagan Youth,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
La Düsseldorf,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Josef K,
Thompson Twins,
Aswad,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Standells,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Derrick May,
Bobby Sherman,
The Motions,
Blossom Toes,
Television Personalities,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Birthday Party,
Urselle,
Prince Buster,
Thee Headcoats,
Eli Mardock,
ABC,
The Pop Group,
Scientists,
Kaleidoscope,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Robert Görl,
Lindisfarne,
Joey Negro,
Rites of Spring,
Stiv Bators,
The Gun Club,
Jerry Gold Smith,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Heaven 17,
CMW,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.